Page 35 of Rescuing Baylee
She stroked the cat for a moment, then lifted her chin. “Because most men are just curious about the scars. Let me ease that curiosity for you. They’re only on my face and the back of my left arm. Nowhere else.”
Landon scowled. “Have you seriously been asked that?”
She barked out a bitter laugh. “And more.”
“Well, let me clear something up, then. I don’t care about your scars. You’re an interesting, beautiful woman, and I’m attracted to you. I want to take you out when this is all over,” he repeated.
Baylee looked down at the cat, shaking her head. “It’s not a good idea, Landon. I appreciate the thought, but it wouldn’t work.”
“Why not? I was interested in you before the shooting, and now that I know you and admire you personally, why wouldn’t I want to date you?”
She shook her head again, and he was starting to get frustrated. “You’re not in a relationship with someone already, are you?”
She barked out another bitter laugh. “No.”
“Then why won’t you go out with me?”
She sighed and shook her head. “Listen, you’re a great guy, but it just wouldn’t work with us. I have a lot of… history.”
He cocked his head. What the heck did that mean? “Okay. Everyone has history. That’s part of the fun of dating someone new, is learning about them.”
Looking heartsick, she clutched the cat to her, making him grunt. Her eyes had gone distant, and Landon worried that she was lost in her mind. Then she refocused on him. Her chin went up and her eyes cooled, and his stomach clenched. He had a feeling she was about to tell him something bad. “I’m damaged goods, Landon. I wasn’t just attacked when I was at Nightshade. I was raped. By three men. They’re the ones who cut me.”
For a second, he didn’t understand the words she’d spoken. Then he blinked, replaying what she’d said. Raped?
Landon was gripped with a sense of fury so deep, it pushed him up out of the chair. His throat was tight, and his heart was racing, and he felt like his head was going to explode. There was an actual haze of red over his vision. He’d never believed perps when they said they saw red. Looking down, he realized his fists were clenched into hammers, and he was quivering, dying to pound them into something. He couldn’t open his mouth to say anything, because his jaw was clenched so tight.
Never in his life had he felt such inarticulate violence toward another person. Toward three other persons.
Then he looked at Baylee, sitting on the couch, clutching her cat. Her face was desolate, pale, and it struck him that every time she had to tell someone about her past, she was being re-victimized. She had the look of a woman who was resigned to being alone the rest of her life because no man wanted to be with her because she’d been raped. Then he thought about the other things she’d talked about. The scars, and the men being fascinated by them.
He drew in a deep breath, and then another, and before he could second-think his actions, he crossed the short space to the couch and crouched in front of her. Reaching out, praying it wouldn’t freak her out, he rested one hand on her knee and looked up into her face. She seemed surprised, her eyes wide and swimming with tears. Did she expect him to reject her for this? He had to drag her back. “What’s your favorite food?”
She blinked, and a tear drifted down her cheek. She shouldered it away, still clutching the cat. “Japanese,” she whispered.
“The first thing we do when we get out of here is we go to this great little hibachi place I know. It’s small, but I know the owners. And the food is out of this world.”
She stared at him for a long moment, as if to test his sincerity.
“Baylee,” he continued. “I’m so sorry that happened to you. No one deserves to go through that trauma.” A remnant of his victim training came back to him. Reaching out, he slowly squeezed her hand. “Thank you for trusting me enough to share this. I can’t imagine how hard that must be.”
Baylee’s eyes shimmered with tears, but she squeezed his hand back. “I didn’t tell you to make you feel sorry for me. I just...don’t want you to have unrealistic expectations if we get involved.”
Landon shook his head. “I don’t see you as damaged goods at all. Your strength and resilience are admirable. You have got to be the most kick ass woman I’ve ever met, and I’ve known a few. I’ll respect whatever boundaries you need, on your timeline.”
He hesitated, feeling like he needed to be honest. “Full disclosure. I’m not sure if I can be in a long-term relationship. I’ve had a few here and there, but they were mostly short-term. I,” he stalled out, then took a deep breath. “My dad wasn’t a great role model, and I worry that I will carry on his legacy.”
Baylee frowned and shook her head. “I don’t see it, Landon. You’re too much of a care giver.”
He wasn’t sure about that. “Well, please know, if we take things slowly and you’re open to it, I’d very much like to pursue something more with you when you’re ready. You’re the first woman I’ve ever said that to. You deserve to feel valued and safe.”
Baylee’s lip trembled slightly as she studied his sincere expression. She gave a small nod. “It means everything that you’ll be patient. Thank you, Landon.”
The two sat in silence for a moment, a profound understanding and acceptance passing between them. Landon made no promises, no demands - only the quiet offer of his care and support, however Baylee needed it.
But he couldn’t help but ask, “Are they dead?”
Baylee barked out a laugh, and her expression took on an edge. “Yes, they are. All three. I killed them myself.”